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I think I'm changing my OUT. Because Kleptomaniac should be an occupational requirement for members of Thieves guilds. So my OUT is, that I stole something from a Diabolist cult leader and he cursed me so that any item I steal everyone will know it's stolen just by touching it. And if they sell it, the next person will know it's stolen by touching it until the item returns to the original owners hands.

"WANTED: DEAD OR ALIVE*
FARKAS NIMBLEFOOT
THIEF, MURDER, TERRIBLE PERSON
*Preferred Dead so we don't have to catch him again..."

Well, the Murder part is a bit of a stretch. I never killed anyone who didn't having it coming to them. Nor did I ever steal from someone who didn't have it coming to them either. Not saying you had it coming, sir, but lets be honest, you hired two half-orcs to guard your vault. Child's play for street rats. A few noises from down the hall, a "Huh? Did you hear that?", and your vault is wide open. And your vault? A GrandSeal D-series? You know that they when out of business after so many people got their stuff stolen out of them? Did you know that if... now, lets not get real crazy with my dagger there.

Oh, you noticed that? What you are feeling is my curse. No, it's not that kind of curse, its not contagious. It's my personal curse. Got it from a Diabolist cult leader after I stole his Breath of the Red Dragon gem. Real beauty. But now, everything I steal, if someone touches it, they can tell its stolen. And if you try to sell something I stole, then the next person will still know its stolen until it reaches the original owner's hands again. But don't worry about that knife. The "original owner" won't be needing it anytime soon. Now, if you wouldn't mind putting it down, maybe we can talk something out. I'm really a nice guy, and a registered member of the local Thieves Guild. Well, if they did register us.

Well, don't you want something? A gem? Some info? New vault guards? Yeah, sorry about that. They kinda tipped my hand. And I kinda stabbed them. Cause and effect. Like how you might want to turn me in for a reward. Yeah, they don't put up WANTED posters just to waste good paper and ink. I think its around 500 gold now. I know, I know, you are thinking "I'm a rich lord with a lovely wife and a nice maiden daughter who happens to leave her window open for dashing rogues to come and sweep her off her feet." You weren't thinking all that. Hey, I never said I was a psychic. That's magic and whatnot, not my area of expertise. I don't have the mind for spells and gibbering words. I deal with physical things. Like how as I've been talking, you haven't noticed that I cut you, just a little bit. And that I poisoned you. I see the effects are working as your grip is loosening and your eyes are getting heavy. Its ok. It's just a sleepy time poison, nothing a nice nap won't fix. Napping, wouldn't that feels great right now. Just closing your eyes and forgetting I was here. Yeah, I'll find you a pillow. I'd hate for you to sleep on such hard floors without one...

Amidst the adventurers in the muck, a figure stands motionless, disconnected from the excited, tense murmur of the crowd. Wearing a hooded cloak under impressive, shining armor, Barthas the Everlight calms himself, head cast down, eyes closed. He says a silent prayer to the gods of unity in arms and of protection. Whatever awaits those here today, they will not die shamefully, or in ---

"Ey, and what's your story then, hey?" A larger, gruff man walks up to Barthas, forcefully shoving his shoulder in a friendly, if assuming, bit of camaraderie. He looks back to his allies, grinning. Barthas sighs quietly to himself, taking in one last calm breath, readying himself as he looks up. "I SAID, who 're you? You gotta ---"

Yellow, pupil-less eyes meet the gruff man's. He reels, equal parts surprised, frightened, and angry. "The hell!? Yeah, actually, the hell ARE YOU?" He grabs Barthas' hood, pulling it down, exposing reddish pale skin and two horns, each flowing back from the forehead to a point.

Barthas raises a hand. "Please, brother, I am as human as you. Let's just wait for the empire's man to arrive." He quickly raises his hood again, before drawing too much attention.

"You definitely ain't no man, and I definitely ain't your brother!" Rushing forward, the gruff man reaches for his sword, preparing to run the demon in front of him through. In an instant, terrifying echoes of the future flash in Barthas' mind. They are vivid, as they always are, a mocking reminder of his cursed blood. The oaf will slip in the mud, his heel catching a thick puddle. He will begin to fall backwards, arms flailing wildly. He will lose grip of his sword, which will twist chaotically in the air before finding a sinister trajectory, pointed straight for the man's throat. He will hit the ground hard, having the breath knocked out of him. The moment he regains his composure will be a moment too late. The sword will slice his throat. Barthas will be blamed, and will die under a dozen blades, in this muck.

Covered in mud, the first thing the easily-agitated assailant sees is a shield held calmly above him, and those two yellow eyes. Immediately, his own sword ricochets off the shield, landing point first mere inches from his head. For a moment, he swears he sees sadness and fear in the yellow eyes. He stammers as Barthas lowers his shield and turns, walking away. "You... you're..."

"Cursed. We all are, brother."

---

Barthas is demontouched, cursed with an appearance and a bloodline most would consider demonic. He spent most of his life on the streets, kicked from foster parent to foster parent, before finding his faith in Justice's Embrace, a belief focused on applying divine strength and valor in combat in protection of all warriors and those unable to fight. Despite his bloodline, something held his strength back, but not his faith, and he serves in support of his brothers in arms.

Still, though, he is cursed, and he struggles to find true brotherhood with those frightened by his appearance and his nature. In an ideal world, he would be as welcome in a tavern as any other man, but that is not this age.

---

Despite this heavy introduction, I'm not planning on playing Barthas serious the entire time; I kind of like the idea of a serious character like this being serious internally but still involved in and partaking of whatever seriousness or unseriousness we get ourselves involved in, so don't feel like it has to be one of "those" stories or anything.

One Unique Thing: Cursed offspring of the Diabolist. He only partially suspects this, but it is the truth, his bloodline traces directly back, somehow, to the Diabolist. An oracle once told him that the fate of the mother is bound to the son. Whether this means he can redeem her, or is tied to her, he cannot ascertain.

Icon Relationships
Diabolist - Conflicted 2: Barthas's actual beliefs and actions in life run entirely contrary to the demon-worshipping ways of the Diabolist's cults, but they still mean something to each other --- they are blood relatives, after all.
Priestess - Positive 1: When Barthas found his faith, he pledged his life to the Gods of Light as represented by the Priestess. Justice's Embrace have particularly good standing among adventurer and martial types.

Backgrounds
Never welcome 2: Barthas is used to blending in with a crowd, slipping an angry mob, talking down angry bigots, and generally keeping out of the limelight.
Acolyte of Justice's Embrace 3: Barthas believes, ultimately, in a uniting brotherhood borne from the battlefield, and is familiar with the related faiths.
Escaped street rat 2: From his years leaving on the streets, Barthas has some idea how to handle rough sorts and make it out with his life and maybe even a bit of information
Just a touch of demon blood 1: Barthas doesn't try to think about it often, but he does some research into his nature when possible. It might just save his life.

"Most high elves wouldn't know which end of a sword to hold, but that one could cut a whole orc band to ribbons and not notice he was bleeding until long after the bodies were cold."
-Helmfrid, Frost Range patrol captain

"You may be content to sit in your towers and admire the shape of your ears until the world burns down around you, but I will not sit idle while the embodiment of our shame walks the earth."
-Talfryn Swanfury, last words to the Court of Stars

Living in the heart of the Queen's Wood as a cousin of the Queen herself is a comfortable existence, all told. The days may be mired in gossip and intrigue, and the nights rife with eavesdropping and assassination, but your chairs are always comfortable, and your needs are met almost before you know them. After all, the elves have had ages to perfect their way of life, and even the bitterest of rivals treat each other with civility while at court. Talfryn was once content to live this life that had been handed him. Then the rumors came. First in off-handed banquet comments, then behind closed doors in more serious tones: orcs were coming down from frozen wilds. More troubling still, they were not aimlessly rampaging as in the past. The orcs were marching. The Orc Lord had returned.

The Orc Lord... The moment Talfryn heard that name spoken aloud, a smoldering heat awoke in his heart. As the reports of orc attacks became more frequent, and more and more voices laughed them off as a "dwarfish problem," that heat erupted into a raging fury. The Orc Lord was like a spotlight, illuminating every flaw and failure of the elves. The Court was full to bursting with passionate arguments about slights committed against the elves in ages long since past, but not one voice was raised about the damage caused by the elves in the creation of the Orc Lord. "A regrettable decision in hindsight, but necessary at the time," said the wise. Most others would not even express the regret.

Finally, the fury burning inside him became too much for Talfryn to bear. He stormed into the Court and declared his intent to leave. "If I must die alone on some forsaken patch of frozen ground far from home, at least I will die fixing our mistake," he said. No one stood to follow him. No one spoke to stop him.

Talfryn took a sword and shield from one of his guards and set out from the Wood for the first time in his life. The journey alone ought to have killed him, but his fury would not let him die. He reached the Frost Range, where hard years and hard fighting forged him into a deadly warrior. He befriended the dwarven soldiers who patrolled the mountain passes and they gave him shelter and taught him how to survive in the wilds. They also gave him his nickname, when one salty old veteran remarked "You fight like a mad swan: all prim and pretty until someone pisses you off, then hell itself couldn't get you to back down."

When the dwarves brought news of the call for adventurers to gather at Haven, Talfryn left the Frost Range and headed south, hoping to find allies in his fight against the orcs.

Looking for ideas from @Jdarksun and @Tox .
So far, our party consists of:
Cleric, Sorcerer, Rogue, and Barbarian

Edit: Also, if you could go ahead and not read any of the campaign modules that have been published, that'd be great. I may be borrowing a bit from them here and there, or depending on how it is received, I may just use a whole module. We shall see

Paladins dont get spells. beware! You have some talents that may modify your rolls a bit, but they're not as abilitied as 4e pallys. bards have a TON of shit they can do. The choice is, of course, yours, though.

I'll probably come in and poke everyone once a day or so. Can we shoot for having characters built by... Friday, let's say?
I can throw the intro scene up and you guys can 'meet' and all of that stuff over the weekend

That may or may not have an impact on my choice. I've still got a couple of different ideas I'm working with.

Either way, Friday shouldn't be an issue. It'll be evening before I have it done and posted (I'm just starting back to school this week), but I'll have it done by Friday, or else I'll dip and let one of the reserves take my spot.

Another side note: I will be home from work tomorrow (getting windows replaced at the house), so I will probably be more available if anyone has questions/comments/something that looks infected that they want an unbiased opinion on.

"Its is the bonds of the world that keep the creatures of the Abyss at bay; sometimes, it is the bonds of friendship forged between allies working towards a common goal. More than once, disciples of the Crusader fought side-by-side with followers of the Great Gold Wyrm, the fist of the Dark Gods slamming closed holes the Wyrm's bulk cannot conceal. Those bonds are not a physical thing, but no less strong for it.

"At least once, that bond was - or cause to be created - a very tangible thing. A clockwork automaton built to patrol the thin points of reality, a rare collaboration between the Dwarf King and the Great Gold Wyrm. This creature would not eat, would not sleep, would not stop, ever... until the enemies of the world were destroyed.

"Or it was.

"The automaton's end came during a pitched battle deep within a rift between the worlds. As demons poured forth, it hewed lashing tentacles and crushed snapping maws. When it became clear that the beachhead was lost, and the forces of good and order must retreat, it held the line as its allies fell back. As the demons swarmed over it, it held. And even as it was torn to pieces - it held the line. The rift was shut, and finally, its clockwork gears ground to a halt, caked with vile blood.

"Time passed, and the creation was forgotten. Its pieces eventually made its way back into the world, a gear here, a spring there. And, somehow, they slowly began to find their way back together. A curious halfling assembled a flywheel and servo. A gnome attached a knee joint. A dwarf gave it a pick. And then one day, it spoke.

"It had no memory of its previous purpose, no idea why it was built. Only that it was not meant for mining, or hauling, or computation, or any other menial chore. There was some grander purpose to its design. It was given a name by its final owners - Clank - and struck off in the world to search for it knew not what."

+1 to attack and damage rolls with this weapon
Usable once per battle (Recharge 11+ after battle): When you hit with this weapon, allow one of your allies engaged with that foe to make a basic melee attack against it as a free actionQuirk: Intrudes on personal space

+1 to attack and damage rolls with this weapon
Usable once per battle (Recharge 11+ after battle): When you hit with this weapon, allow one of your allies engaged with that foe to make a basic melee attack against it as a free actionQuirk: Intrudes on personal space

+1 to attack and damage rolls with this weapon
Usable once per battle (Recharge 11+ after battle): When you hit with this weapon, allow one of your allies engaged with that foe to make a basic melee attack against it as a free actionQuirk: Intrudes on personal space

Excellent! Just waiting on a character sheet from @Tox , and we will be all set.
I'm gonna work on the intro narrative stuff, and then you guys can have the weekend to 'bump into' each other in the nasty muddy outside place.

Adventurers of all stripes, ages, specialties, and loyalties have been called to Haven, an abandoned city between Axis and Horizon. The Emperor, Priestess, Archmage, and Great Gold Wyrm have called any able-bodied individuals to lend aid against the rising threat of evil, and the icons they claim to represent. All are welcome, though some will of course be more welcome than others.

The day is gray and rainy. The adventurers are gathered outside the city waiting for a speech from a representative of the empire. The only sounds around are the wet sloshing sounds of boots in damp mud and the low murmur of adventurers talking amongst themselves.

The small crowd gathered in the open field continues to grow. Squelching boots can be heard, along with the occasional curse about the weather. The gathering grew to be around 100 strong, and then continued to grow. All talking stopped at once when the man took the stage. Stage isn't really the right word. The structure appears to be a well-worn gallows with some banners draped over the top beams. The banners indicate that this gathering is being done under the auspices of The Emperor, The Elf Queen, The Dwarf King, The Priestess, The Archmage, The Great Gold Wyrm, and The High Druid. Simple deduction gives those gathered a good idea of who the 'enemy' may be.

Regardless, when the man in charge of this gathering showed up, he had everyone's attention. Clad in shimmering golden plate mail that looked to be sturdy enough to stop a ballista bolt with ease, his face showed no mirth. It was obvious that he was here on important matters.

"The name's Orram. As you can tell," he says, motioning towards the armor he is wearing, "I'm a paladin of The Great Gold Wyrm.

I've gathered you lot together here today for a mission. A mission that NONE OF YOU are qualified for. At least not yet. There's some serious shit going down around the world and as shameful as it is to admit it, we need help. Being as you whoresons are the only one who showed up, you'll have to do. In order to prove that you are worthy and devoted to the cause, I'll be sending groups of you on smaller missions to prove that you've got what it takes to not be a liability. I'm no teacher. I'm not going to break you up into groups. You can do that yourselves. See me when you're ready to go and we will have my scribe register you and give you some supplies.

Dismissed."

The man does a quick salute of two taps of his right fist over his heart armor, and lets out a roar. Turning in a practiced an precise manner, he walks off the gallows to the right. The people in attendance slowly begin looking amongst themselves and discussing things.

"Oi've got this 'ere axe, y'see? Any group'd be locky to 'ave me!"

'See here, you buffoon! A keen magical mind can accomplish much more than an axe could!'

"Oi'll cut ya down the middle, ya fanshy bastard!"

Some quarreling breaks out but is quickly put to a halt by other people nearby.

-Brief loading screen. Camera pans to show each individual PC. You now have control of your character-

Some posting things that would be helpful!

Post stage directions/descriptions in italics
Post quotes in regular typeAny abilities you use, please color them for easier location in text wallsAny time you want to use a banked relationship die, please tell me which one, what number it was, and your relationship with the icon in orange
Any battles will have initiative blocks. If two or more PCs are adjacent in the initiative order, they may move in any order they wish. Same goes for baddies!